


Kerfuffle

by CampionSayn



Series: Not JUST Dentists [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi, The Grangers Take No Shit, Tumblr prompt that got hella out of control, actually INVOLVED Muggle parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:59:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CampionSayn/pseuds/CampionSayn
Summary: In which: Hermione comes into the knowledge of magic early, and her parents move them all to Ottery St. Catchpole. Their neighbors are certainly better than ghosts.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PatrickArch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatrickArch/gifts).



Let us consider that Hermione Granger did not, in fact, make her first friends at Hogwarts with Harry and Ron saving her life from the club of a Mountain Troll. Let us consider, in fact, that she was inducted into the Wizarding World a little earlier than when she got her letter, simply because, much like her older self that still punched Draco Malfoy and broke his nose for making a joke of the death of a Hippogriff, she did not tolerate bullies. In this universe, Hermione’s parents decided to cease being dentists by the time Hermione was seven, because the house they had lived next door to became infested with rather unfortunate ghosts when their elderly neighbor came into some money and Hermione finally got them to stop rearranging the furniture by quoting probate and tax law until the ghosts _(two men about half the age of her neighbor with only about a fifth grade education and bad manners that came in trying to spit and smoke the cigarettes they stole out of the pockets of passersby)_ decided, “This little witch is not worth dealing with, let’s go back to Hogsmeade.”  
  
The Grangers had been making over six figures a year for all the years Hermione had been alive and six well before; they could afford to move out to a small dwelling that had been up for sale in Ottery St. Catchpole immediately; a house not unlike a cottage very close to the river with heavy stones surrounding the seven acres Mrs. Granger planted hundreds of flowers in and Doctor Granger added three tree saplings to every Arbor Day. The place was built with two stories and not too long a walk away from a little village they could get mail and groceries from. Doctor and Mrs. Granger made the decision to be supportive and try to help Hermione as best they could; being only children themselves with no other family and Hermione being the only child they were likely to ever have, they wanted to be involved and do all the research they could to help her.  
  
Hermione cried a lot about being a freak at first, running the words that old man had spoken to her around in her head, over and over.   
  
Mrs. Granger was half-Sylheti, half-Bede Romany and knew how that word could effect a young girl who was sensitive _(too frizzy hair that got long and tedious when wet, dark skin in a sea of pale, words that shouldn’t mean anything taking on too much meaning)_. Her husband _(son of an agnostic Jew and lapsed Irish Catholic; so white he turned into a lobster every summer)_ knew how hard it was not to pop someone in the face for even saying it in jest.  
  
Doctor Granger was quite pleased to get his daughter feeling a little better when they took her into the village and found they had a small, but very informative library. Mrs. Granger even more so when the two adults made something like friends of a group of people they often passed on the back roads on the way to town; Amos Diggory, Pandora and Xenophilius Lovegood and Molly Weasley _(with her husband along the way; though Molly didn't seem to like leaving him alone with them)_. A little strange, the whole lot of them, but they didn’t judge and they had children Hermione’s age, so what more could they have needed at the time?  
  
This Hermione ended up becoming close friends with the little blonde girl that lived in the house closest to the Granger family, and the little ginger haired, heavily freckled girl in the house a little further into the fields; Hermione often joked that it was like the Bermuda Triangle for the girls–though at the time, neither Ginny or Luna knew even remotely knew what that meant.  
  
“You are rather secretive for a girl our age,” Luna once noted while they were on the waterfront, collecting smooth stones for Ginny’s brothers that Hermione had met, of course it was impossible not to have met the entire Weasley family after three years wandering around the village; no idea what the stones were for, though.

Hermione tried to find a reasonable explanation to give them, but she really couldn’t; her parents had said she could tell people she trusted about the ghosts and the things that she made happen if she promised them that Hermione trusted them, which she did… But it was **_hard_** , being so smart and so scared.

The Granger parents figured out their curious neighbors before Hermione did, often considering over the strange happenings their children managed and trying to figure out how to break the ice. 

The ice got broken for them, when they were walking Luna back home, Hermione and the little blonde talking about the effects of spring falling to summer–in like a lamb, out like a dragon–and how the 1990 snow was a little less than what it had been the year before. Xenophilius being at the front door to greet them, offering up the mulled spice cider Mrs. Granger taught both Lovegood parents how to make and the man in his house frock asking the girls to go and get Pandora.

Luna had been wondering about Hermione’s opinion on lions and eagles, badgers and snakes, when the trapdoor to her mother’s work space broke open with the smell of flame and smoke billowing like a bloated chimney, with Pandora flying out with it, hitting the ground hard and limply clutching at her throat. Her airway was closing, burns on her arms a tinge of deep blue and her eyes clenched tight.

The windows of the Lovegood house burst to nothing, shards flying everywhere with Luna looking on, doe-eyed and frightened, and Hermione… 

“Mom! Dad!” Hermione had screamed, her little body flying to the prone woman, her mind supplying her with all the information she’d read on victims suffering from smoke inhalation and the like. Her hands holding Pandora’s much larger ones and tracing over the burns, if not to make them go away, then to at least prevent them from spreading.  
  
The two called parents came barreling along the side of the house, not too different from a pair of greyhounds–wild horses–ready cheetahs–worried human beings.

In this universe, Luna’s mother did not die, simply because she had

_Muggles_

there to save her life; Muggles that were dentists, also known as oral surgeons, also known as the kind of people that go through the entirety of medical school and know how to save someone’s life with a little penknife digging a slit into someone’s throat and pressing an empty pen shell into the hole so they can breathe.

In this lifetime, Xenophilius called for help from the Weasley’s to help haul his wife to St. Mungo’s, the frantic editor of The Quibbler getting his too pale hand slapped away from the pen sticking out of his wife’s neck by the sharp nailed, much darker hand of Mrs. Granger, repeatedly being told, “You can’t take it out–it’s  _helping_ her, Xeno.”  
  
Neither Granger adult would have their memory wiped after staying with the frightened, solemn Lovegoods in the Mungo’s waiting room, Xenophilius snapping at the first healer that made a comment and Arthur, though very low in the Ministry, still possessing a bit of standing to keep them from being eyed at and questioned in more negative ways.  
  
Hermione sat hugging Luna and telling her everything would be alright and Ginny trying to make light of the situation by smiling and murmuring that Hermione was much more clever than most witches their age; Luna would _have_ to believe her.  
  
Doctor Granger would give the healers as much information as he could about the reason they had nicked Pandora’s throat and put in objects while Mrs. Granger sat with Xenophilius and let him and Molly and Arthur explain about Wizarding London and how Hermione was undoubtedly going to Hogwarts after this whole kerfuffle.When Arthur commented on neither Granger parent seeming as surprised or out of sorts as most Muggles that had ever heard such things, Doctor Granger just sipped the tea that was available in the waiting area, tired but smiling as his wife made the most absurd comment.  
  
Xenophilius actually laughed a little, somewhat hysterically at the point-blank answer.  
  
_“There are more things in Heaven and Earth, than dreamt of in your philosophy.”_  
  
In this universe, after a time, after Pandora was allowed back home with the promise to magical law enforcement that she’d put in better protections for her experiments; the Grangers got a proper introduction to Wizarding London. Ginny and Luna had never been so pleased to have an older friend _(redheaded brothers in all sizes and types didn’t count)_ be brought properly into the light; showing her everything there was to know was their top priority.  
  
Luna insisted, holding her mother’s hand all the way, that showing Hermione and her parents Diagon Alley would do the trick, so that they could get used to their world before letters came.  
  
There are supportive parents in the Wizarding world, for sure and certain, but with half-bloods it was difficult and with Muggleborn, even more-so; Arthur and Molly were always prepared, those first couple trips into the Alley, that their neighbors with the pleasant, mellow dispositions and the obvious interest in things their daughter had that they did not, would eventually run screaming. Muggles, after.  
  
They did not run away. They helped Hermione open up more, followed her and her two friends _(when Luna wasn’t holding her mother’s hand, she seemed to be holding Hermione’s)_ hither and tither; like the most patient sheep dogs after a flock of springy, rambunctious lambs.  
  
Doctor Granger went with Molly and Arthur to the goblin bank _(he did not dally and he did not balk at the sight and meeting of the sharp-toothed goblin behind the counter with too dark eyes and hair thinning to show liver spots)_ and smiled at the goblin who helped him open Hermione a vault for the amount of money that would keep her through schooling, accepting the key graciously, “Thank you for your patience in my asking so many questions.” The goblin himself a little stunned at the oddly pleasant man that bid him a good afternoon on the way out of the bank.  
  
The letter from Hogwarts came a week later with Minerva McGonagall knocking on the Granger household door, being told to just come in, and finding the Muggleborn she was sent to tell the basics of the Wizarding Wold about helping her Muggle father put a stack of books on shelves with a levitation charm, and the Muggle mother in the kitchen showing one of Minerva’s old students, Pandora, how to make pancakes.  
  
Luna Lovegood greeted Minerva as she stood with her mouth hanging just slightly open; blue fae-like eyes half lidded and a book on Muggle philosophy _(an old thing Doctor Granger kept around from college that had some hand writing in the corners from when he’d started asking out his wife in the back of class)_ open in her lap, “Oh, are you here to deliver Hermione’s letter? She was starting to worry she wouldn’t be going since it’s well past her eleventh birthday.”  
  
Mrs. Granger went with the Lovegoods and the girls to the Magical Menagerie in search of an owl, hoping that it would make things easier when Hermione went to school and Ginny and Luna would be left behind for another year. She was of course also in need of the bird so that Hermione wouldn’t be too bothered going into the owlery Xenophilius said Hogwarts had; she could handle ghosts terrifying old men, but Hermione had a little bit of an aversion to the idea of wandering into a tower stocked with hundreds of birds of prey. Which was understandable; Mrs. Granger recalled her daughter at three, running away from a flock of pigeons, after all.  
  
This is where they happened to run across the Malfoy’s. Not like a time _(not this time, but in another story)_ two years later, in a bookshop with a preening liar with too perfect looks insisting that a young boy stand in a photo covered in soot to make him look a little better in print, both Granger parents uncertain of what to do and standing out of the way while Arthur had words and actions that brought Hagrid around to stop blows; nothing so dramatic as that.   
  
This time around, a large Horned Owl that was being looked over by Lucius Malfoy and his son, flapped its wings in irritation at the large orange cat the came climbing along the displays when the more pleasant group entered the premises. The owl, snowy white and beautiful on the other side of the shop was unamused at the loud, too-regal bird practically buffeting Draco in the face when the cat strolled right past the two Purebloods and parked itself in front of Hermione.  
  
“Oh, dear, Hermione, it seems as if you’ll have a cat, rather than an owl,” Luna stated as Crookshanks _(Lucius sneered at the orange mop of fur and the owner of the shop behind the desk that called for him when Draco calmed the vain bird with little treats he still had left from the two other owls that didn’t seem right for the blond boy; the sneer turning a little down when Mrs. Granger caught his eye and mouthed, ‘Sorry about that,’ clear as day)_ purred up at the girl and immediately jumped into her arms when she bent down to pet him.  
  
Mrs. and Doctor Granger agreed on the walk home, “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to learn to deal with the Hogwarts owls, Hermione. Crookshanks seems to like your attention too much.”  
  
In this time and universe, the Grangers did not take shit from anyone.   
  
Hermione spoke her mind; a day or so before leaving for school and getting her robes tailored with that same pale blonde boy chattering in the next stall over to a bespectacled boy their same age about “the wrong sort of people” she spoke up immediately, and damn the consequences of their knowing she was eavesdropping.  
  
“How do you know the right sort from the wrong sort if you’ve only known one and not the other since forever?”  
  
Hermione walked between Luna and Ginny on the way to King’s Cross, appreciating the fact that Ginny taught her how to be brave, and Luna taught her not to give a damn about other people’s opinions as the three walked through the barrier, their mums behind them with the rest of Ginny’s brothers. She didn’t notice her father straggling behind with the cart in the parking lot, stopping a car that pulled out too quickly with a sturdy _slap-slap-slap_ on the hood when the driver pulled into the lane too quickly and almost struck the young blonde boy that Hermione spoke to at Madame Malkin’s.   
  
Draco Malfoy _does_ make an enemy of Harry and Ron, they’re _**young**_ and _**immature**_ boys so at that age it couldn’t be helped, but he’s far less antagonistic towards Hermione, given that he thinks that her father saved him from getting crushed by a Muggle vehicle. He’s careful about doing anything that could cause his magic to turn on him. His father was rather specific in his years before Hogwarts about how blood magic and life debts and moving up in the world through advice and favors.  
  
There was a lot of hugging and promising of letters and Hermione’s parents reminding her that it would all be okay, and Mrs. Weasley telling her the first trip is always the best and to enjoy it.  
  
And there is Luna giving her a little peck on the cheek and stating in the form of a question they both know the answer to, “At least you’ll be sure to stand up to Peeves and the Bloody Baron, yeah?”  
  
Standing on the train step, the last on right after Ron _(he’d promise to get them a shared seat)_ and Harry _(both entirely nervous and excited about everything–not at all knowing what was to come)_ and Draco _(having already said good-bye to his parents, bright silver-blue eyes looking back at the people that were obviously, now that he wasn’t in fear of being ran over, Muggles looking perfectly ordinary and giving supportive, silent good-byes to their own child)_ and said rather endearingly and without any real hesitation, “Of course, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> I may extend on this and I may not. I really like playing with the Grangers since nobody writes about them, but DAMN if this didn't take forever.


End file.
